


Car Ride Home

by americanhoney913



Series: The Huntress and the Songbird [1]
Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020)
Genre: F/F, Helena is an awkward gay, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:41:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23872546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americanhoney913/pseuds/americanhoney913
Summary: Dinah looks beautiful and feral and Helena doesn’t know what to do with the feeling settling in her stomach. Maybe she shouldn’t have eaten anything from that Sal guy Harley took them to yesterday, raving about the egg sandwich.
Relationships: Helena Bertinelli/Dinah Lance
Series: The Huntress and the Songbird [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1720453
Comments: 8
Kudos: 137





	Car Ride Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sinandmisery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinandmisery/gifts).



> From sinandmisery: just thinking about helena carrying her to the car on another mission later, and helena climbs in the back seat with her. dinah's stretched out on the seat with her head resting against her thigh. when she finally comes to, she's all groggy but when she realizes where she is she smiles up at helena all soft like hey. and then she goes to prop herself up, but she does it by anchoring her hand on helena's thigh and helena is like SWEET LORD PLEASE HELP I AM BUT A WEAK GAY
> 
> Thank you, aserenitatum, for the beta help!

It happens as it usually does. The three of them kicking ass and taking names. Helena’s got a shiny new crossbow and a pair that Cass has affectionately nicknamed her Tony Stark goggles (whoever the fuck that is)-- help her calculate for the best kill or the right angle. Harley found some tech wizard in the seedy underbelly of Gotham, forced them at glitterbomb gunpoint to make it and, while Harley annoys the fuck out of Helena with her overexuberant personality, she really comes through for her friends when it matters. Well, most of the time. Dinah’s still bitter about Harley stealing her car and wrapping it around one of the few trees in Gotham a week later.

However, these mercenaries came more prepared than usual. Dinah’s got Harley’s old baseball bat in a tight grip as she launches herself at one of them. Helena watches as two guys charging at her go down with two well-placed bullets through the brain from Renee. But they just keep coming, streaming in. One falls and three more take their place. Like a goddamn fucking hydra.

“Canary, I think it’s time to wrap this up,” Renee shouts from somewhere behind them. Helena’s goggles beep and the left eye, where the computer component rests, lets her know of an incoming attack so she jabs her elbow back, followed by a free arrow to the throat and the grunt chokes on his own blood until he dies. The one thing Helena hates is how she’s gotta go back and pick up the arrows when they’ve killed everyone. Those things don’t come cheap. Harley always makes fun of her for it and Dinah calls her a Valkyrie, even though she’s picking up weapons, not souls. It’s a bitch to do, but it also gives her peace of mind to know everyone they took down is fully dead.

Helena watches as Dinah’s back muscles tense as she straightens. She plants her feet, takes a deep breath that allows Helena and Renee a moment to put their hands over their ears before her Canary cry reverberates through the warehouse. The acoustics make it louder and Helena can feel it deep in her soul. The mercenaries go flying or fall to the floor, bleeding out their ears. The Huntress braces herself as the sonic scream passes her by, keeping herself grounded so she won’t go down the same road as the dead guys sprawled across the floor. She can feel the sonic vibration and Dinah looks beautiful, mouth open, lips almost curled back into a snarl. She looks beautiful and feral and Helena doesn’t know what to do with the feeling settling in her stomach. Maybe she shouldn’t have eaten anything from that Sal guy Harley took them to yesterday, raving about the egg sandwiches.

Once the last merc falls to the ground, Dinah closes her mouth. Helena steps over a body, kicks aside another guy, trying to make her way to the songstress. She pushes the darker parts of her goggles, where the computer is, away so she’s got a clear view. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Renee grabbing at her arrows, stabbing one into any of the men that groan.

“He-le-na?” Dinah’s voice is always softer after she uses her Canary Cry, and Helena reaches her just as she begins to sway. While she’s still not used to touches that aren’t painful or killing or training, Dinah settling into her arms feels nice in a way it shouldn’t. Fuck, that feeling is back and, yep, Harley definitely gave her something. Dinah falls to her knees or, she would have if Helena hadn’t gotten to her in time. She throws the other woman’s arm over her shoulder and tries to hold her steady, but Dinah can’t grip properly, so Helena sighs. She puts one arm against Dinah’s back and one under her knees, picking her up in what all the movies call a ‘bridal carry’. It’s not as efficient as a fireman’s carry, but Dinah told her, in no uncertain terms, to never pick her up like that again. Now, if she can’t guide the songstress to the car, she’ll bridal carry, no matter how much Renee and Cass and Harley make fun of her.

“Come on,” Renee says as she holds a bouquet of arrows in one hand and the keys to Dinah’s car in the other. On missions, when Harley and Cass don’t join them, they take Dinah’s new car. Dinah curls a fist into the top Helena’s wearing and Helena straightens up, fighting a smile. But it’s hard because Dinah always makes her smile. Renee opens the door for her and Helena kneels to lower Dinah in. Thank God the songstress got another convertible, blue with gold highlights, so she can almost lean over the side and put her down. However, Dinah clings to her top and Renee snorts.

“What?” Helena asks as she untangles the singer’s fingers to lay them on her stomach.

“Listen, I’m not gonna tell you how to live your life,” Renee says in a tone that Helena’s been able to learn means that she absolutely will. “But you two have been dancing around each other for four months. It’s fucking exhausting.” Helena rolls her eyes and tries to sit in the passenger seat but Renee gives her a glare and dumps all the bloody arrows there before she can even open the door. Sometimes Renee pisses her off just a smidge too much and Helena gets this urge to strangle her. Just a little. “Get your shit together, Crossbow, or Cass is gonna lock you two in a closet and tell you that Seven Minutes in Heaven doesn’t end until you kiss.”

Helena settles in behind the passenger seat full of arrows and runs a hand through her hair, takes her goggles off. She grumbles under her breath and Renee laughs. Helena doesn’t understand what she means or the game Cass will demand they play. Her thigh hits something and she looks down to find Dinah’s head there. Helena signs and throws one arm over the backseat and moves her other to traces over a few of Dinah’s braids. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Helena says, but her breath stops when Dinah moves. It’s only a tiny movement and only the press of her head further against her hip.

Helena closes her eyes for a moment, letting herself settle back into the leather. She sighs as her hand touches the few locs of Dinah’s hair before she pulls back, fists her hand and feels her nails dig into her skin. That weird feeling in her stomach comes back when Dinah sighs, a little raspy as it usually is after she uses her Cry. God fucking dammit Harley. She’s always making them eat weird shit. Helena doesn’t know if it’s to get some sort of perverse pleasure or for some other reason. The janky clown is nuts and Helena’s given up on figuring her out.

Helena deflates from her rigid position as Renee pulls into the garage next to the warehouse. Using the Bertinelli fortune Helena got with the access codes, she’d bought a whole warehouse and they’d refurbished it so the three of them could have somewhere to go after missions. Now, Renee gets out of the car with her handful of arrows. Helena doesn’t move for fear of waking Dinah-- the songstress hasn’t been sleeping well lately and doing her sonic scream always wears her out even more-- but, obviously, Renee doesn’t care. She kicks the door shut as hard as she can and Helena winces because that sounded like it could have put a dent in Dinah’s new car.

Dinah hums and mumbles something before Helena can even open her own door. Chills slide up her spine as a brown hand lands on her thigh, golden rings glinting in the low light, curling there for a moment. Helena’s stomach churns with an unfamiliar nervous feeling and she’s not sure if it’s a good feeling or not. Dinah pushes off and sits up, holding herself up with one hand on Helena’s thigh-- kill her now-- and one on the leather seats. Her eyes, brown with little bursts of gold-- not that Helena’s looking that closely-- look a little cloudy, a little hazy, but there’s that familiar spark that happens when Dinah looks at Helena-- and, according to Harley, only when she looks at Helena.

A smile blooms across Dinah face-- Helena’s favorite one where her dimples come out to play-- and she leaves her hand right where it sits on the taller woman’s thigh. “Hey,” Dinah says, her voice just that perfect mix of smokey and raspy and it makes Helena’s breath stutter in her chest for a moment. She only allows herself a moment of weakness before she straightens her spine and opens the door. If she leaves now, Dinah might not realize just how much of an effect she has on Helena. However, nails dig into the fabric of Helena’s pleather and stretch pants and she freezes. “Where ya goin’?” God, if Dinah spoke like this all the time, Helena probably wouldn’t survive and she doesn’t know how she feels about that. 

“Um, inside. We’re… we, uh, we won.” Helena’s voice comes out stilted and, while most people seem put out by her awkwardness, Dinah’s dimpled smile only grows a bit wider. She’s still got a little exhausted haze in her eyes, but she finally detaches her nails from Helena’s pants. She finally opens the door and slides out, body jolting when Dinah passes a little closer than a normal person would, almost pressing her body fully against Helena’s. She moves her hand along Helena’s arm, squeezes her bicep, before tapping her fingers against her knuckles. Helena tries not to show any reaction, but her muscles twitch, as does her hand when Dinah touches it.

“Thanks,” Dinah says, almost purrs. She flips her hair and her hips sway as she makes her way towards the door leading into the warehouse. Helena watches her as she walks away and she can hear Harley in the back of her mind: ‘I hate ta see ya go but I love ta watch ya leave.’ Fucking clown asshole. Dinah disappears into the warehouse, but not without shooting a final smirk over her shoulder at Helena.

Helena hunches her shoulders and follows Dinah in. She is so fucked.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is my first attempt at Helena/Dinah. I hope that y'all enjoyed it. Let me know what you guys thought. 
> 
> Thank you to the burps for letting me join your crew and being so nice and encouraging.
> 
> Here's hoping for many fics to come!


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